


this red hot emotion

by colorfulmagic



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Truama, ig it is now, is that a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulmagic/pseuds/colorfulmagic
Summary: In the weeks leading up to Sozin's comet, Jeong Jeong reconnects with an old flame— and is promptly ordered to stay with him until battle.
Relationships: Jeong Jeong/Piandao (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: MMEU Winter Solstice Exchange 2020





	this red hot emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acezukos (purplefennels7)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplefennels7/gifts).



It started with Iroh, because of course that man couldn’t leave Jeong Jeong to his peace even after he had taken control of the White Lotus. 

“Unfortunately the Fire Nation knows where you are,” he said gravely with that annoying chin rub he did. “You will have to lay low if you do not want to be caught and jailed for treason.”

_I’ve been doing nothing but laying low_ Jeong Jeong wanted to snap, but held his tongue. 

“I can disappear further along the coastal towns,” Jeong Jeong said stiffly, “if we could—“

“Fortunately we have already found a solution,” Iroh said cheerfully, grinning at him. Jeong Jeong did not return the gesture, pit growing in his stomach. “I discussed with the rest of the White Lotus” _meaning you went behind my back_ Jeong Jeong filled in, “and one of our members has been gracious enough to allow you to stay with them.” 

Well. That wasn’t so bad. Better than squatting, anyways. 

“Alright. Who?”

“Master Piandao.” Jeong Jeong stared. He knew the man was delusional, but he hadn’t realized he had reached full blown insanity. 

“Master Piandao,” he said flatly. “The one who lives in the Fire Nation. This is the master Piandao we are talking about?”

“It is the perfect cover,” he said happily. “No one would ever suspect it.”

“Because it is fucking _insane,”_ he hissed, completely done, and Iroh laughed like he was making a joke. 

So that was the story of how he ended up in Piandao’s villa months before Sozin's comet, unable to leave for fear of discovery. 

Piandao. His ex. Who he left without a word twenty years ago. 

Yeah. 

The first couple of days passed fine, if a bit awkwardly. Piandao was nothing but the picture of cordiality, if a bit distant. Truth be told Jeong Jeong wasn’t sure if he would have broken the fragile peace if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t think he could handle another few months of this same awkwardness. (His guilty consciousness had absolutely nothing to do with it.) The morning that marked a week after he arrived he woke up and knew he had hit a wall. He couldn’t keep skirting around the issue as he had been. Clarity was a bitch, sometimes. 

When he went down to the kitchen Piandao was there, as he hoped he would be. He was standing by the stove, still looking half asleep as he stirred his tea. The sunlight streaming in through the glass windows dappled over his shoulders and like this he looked like the god those villagers had first thought himself as all those years ago. 

“Morning,” Piandao said, voice still raspy with sleep. “Do you want some tea? There’s no food right now, it’s Fats day off, but—“

“I apologize,” Jeong Jeong said, cutting him off. No use beating around the bush. He struggled with the right words for a moment. “For… leaving you. I had all the right intentions, but. It was inexcusable.”

Piandao set his tea down, looking suddenly more awake. “Okay,” he said finally. Jeong Jeong frowned. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jeong Jeong drummed his fingers against the table top, uneasy. This… wasn’t going how he had expected. He had been prepared for more yelling, for one. Piandao reached over and pulled a second cup from the cupboard. 

“I know it’s probably not what you’re used to, but I developed somewhat of a taste for it traveling when I was young,” Piandao said conversationally, pouring a second cup, nimble fingers steady around the pot. He pushed the cup down to Jeong Jeong, who saw with some surprise that it was a rich brown instead of the translucent black he was used to. He took a cautious sip, flavor bursting across his tongue, rich and spiced and tasting of hot summer days and sticky heat on his back. 

“It’s… interesting.”

“The elaichi can come off a little strong at first, but it does wake you up.” He looked up, and Piandao was looking back. “Jeong Jeong,” he said quietly. “Would it surprise you to know that I was never angry with you for deserting?”

“Sure.”

“No, really,” Piandao said and he could never resist that voice. “Maybe in the beginning a little, but I understood. I deserted too eventually. It took me much longer, but then, I never had quite as much nerve as you. Though I don’t think anyone could.” Jeong Jeong huffed out a breath. 

Piandao stepped closer, setting his cup down on the counter with a dull thunk. “What I do have a problem with,” he said, “is the fact that you never came to me for help.”

Jeong Jeong's shoulders jerked back up, scowl fitting in place. “I had to,” he snapped. “I was putting you in danger just by associating with you, you think I wanted a life of hiding for you? Of constantly looking over your shoulder, of never knowing where your next meal was coming from? It was for your own protection.”

“I know I keep bringing this up, but I did actually desert too. That was a thing that happened. There was a small army involved, you would’ve liked it.”

“This isn’t a joke! You wouldn’t even have been put in that position if I hadn’t deserted in the first place—“

“Oh give me a break,” Piandao said, and for the first time in the conversation he sounded angry. “The world does not actually revolve around you, you unbelievable prick. Twenty years, and not a fucking word. Agni I forgot how— infuriating, you are.”

“And I forgot how stubborn you can be.”

“Yeah well. Strange how these things can happen when you don’t bother to drop a letter for twenty years.” The kitchen was silent for a moment, Jeong Jeong struggling to contain his words. _It was for your own good_ he wanted to yell. _Can’t you see?_

_That temper of yours is going to get you in trouble one day_ Piandao had used to tease him, when the lines around his eyes weren’t quite as deep and he had looked at Jeong Jeong with only fondness. 

“I apologize,” he said again. “For not letting you know I was alright.” Though alright was stretching the truth slightly.

“Apology accepted,” Piandao said, draining his cup and standing up, but Jeong Jeong wasn’t done. 

“I’d like to make it up to you. Personally. With dinner, maybe?”

Piandao raised an eyebrow, examining him. Jeong Jeong looked back with a level gaze, trying to let the sincerity show on his face. 

“Yeah okay,” Piandao said at last. “You can meet my husband, finally,” he added. 

Jeong Jeong's heart stopped, eyes going wide. There was a pause, then Piandao snorted. 

“ _Asshole_ ,” Jeong Jeong said. Piandao doubled over laughing, and Jeong Jeong couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from curving up after a moment. 

***

Jeong Jeong kept his promise, in the weeks that followed. He made Piandao dinner that very week, where he learned to his horror that Piandao had, like, no idea how to cook.

“I’m regulating you to knife duty,” Jeong Jeong announced after the fifth time of just barely saving the donburi from tasting like the back of an uncooked unagi from Piandao’s unerring hand. 

“Yes Admiral sir,” Piandao said seriously, tossing a mocking bow his way. Jeong Jeong grimaced. 

“Don’t call me that.” He tossed a knife Piandao’s way, sharp enough to cut bone and Piandao caught it without looking. 

“Or what?” He started chopping the yasai, motions quick and even and this, at least, he knew how to do. Satisfied that he wouldn’t end up with huge chunks of green bean in his donburi, Jeong Jeong turned back to the tofu he was soaking in soy sauce. 

“Or I’ll demote you.” Piandao barked out a laugh and Jeong Jeong grinned, turning so he wouldn't see. 

“What, was enemy of the state not bad enough? I needed to get demoted now too?”

“You know what they say,” Jeong Jeong said wisely. “Work to beat your own records from day to day, and success will follow.”

“Not sure they were talking about treason, though.” 

“Yes, well. It seems like it worked out okay for you.” That had come out more bitter than he had wanted. “Anyway,” he said hurriedly, because Piandao was looking at him in that way he had and Jeong Jeong truly didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that right now, “I think we can start cooking these now.” 

The time passed quickly, Jeong Jeong toasting the tofu with his chopsticks in one hand while Piandao cooked the yasai on the other stove. Their hands brushed together from time to time and Jeong Joeng was hyper aware of each touch, almost burning some of the food in his distraction. He breathed a sigh of relief when Piandao went to set the table, leaving him free with his thoughts for a few moments. 

“Huh,” Piandao said with some surprise when they finally ate. They were sitting across from each other on the low cedar table, both with the donburi in front of them. “This isn't bad.”

“There's no need to sound so shocked.”

“No, it's just, I don't remember ever seeing you… cook.”

That's actually why they promoted me,” Jeong Jeong said, chasing a stray bit of tofu between his chopsticks, “the prodigy thing was sort of an afterthought.” Piandao rolled his eyes. He did seem to be enjoying the meal though, Jeong Jeong noted with some pleasure. Piandao usually ate little, as a rule— he had more than once overheard Fat gently persuading him to eat just one more bite— and though he still wasn't eating a huge amount it was progress. “Musgravite,” Jeong Jeong said after a moment. 

“Hm?”

“Musgravite. That's where I learned how to cook.”

Piandao looked at him thoughtfully. “You used your bending,” he noted. “When you were cooking.”

“Yeah. it's… a work in progress.”

“They teach you that too?”

“Some,” Jeong Jeong said tightly. Piandao nodded, just absently, as though he had a million other things on his mind. But maybe not, because he changed the subject soon after. 

“Tell me about Musgravite,” he said, and Jeong Jeong did. 

***

The days after The Apology things got better. They still didn’t see each other too often— Piandao had a job and Jeong Jeong had… things to do. Important things. (Meditation was important.) They settled into a routine of sorts as the days then weeks passed by. Routine being a flexible word because there was never any telling where Piandao would be from day to day.

But despite the variable times he saw Piandao, the house never felt lonely for very long. There was Fat, for one thing. He usually brought Jeong Jeong lunch at some point in the day, where he would update Jeong Jeong on whatever book he was reading or the latest drama in the local theatre troupe he was part of. Apparently they were putting on this year's third consecutive rendition of _love amongst the dragons_ , a fact that Fat was absolutely disgusted with. 

“The man has absolutely no vision,” he told Jeong Jeong at some point over a game of igo. Jeong Jeong wasn't exactly an expert in the game but he did know how to play, picked up from the army and the various bars he used to frequent. Fat was an expert, so he spent a lot of time talking while Jeong Jeong tried to figure out his next move. “If he actually allowed new voices onto the set maybe we’d be able to attract new audiences, but he just keeps plugging out the name numbers over and over again.”

Jeong Jeong moved his piece in the atari formation. Fat seemed to have expected this, because his move came immediately after. Jeong Jeong scowled at the board. 

“And he put Shizue as the lead,” Fat continued in disgust. “I have no idea what he was thinking, with her vocal range.”

“Is Shizue the one who just had the messy breakup,” Jeong Jeong said distractedly, “or the one who brought the unseasoned Nikujaga to the charity dinner?” If he just moved his stone to the right, perhaps that would give him the opportunity to come in from behind and trap Fat’s pieces behind his own…

“The charity dinner,” Fat said, waving him off. “Ojulu was the one with the breakup, the poor girl.” 

“Hmm.” Jeong Jeong moved the pieces, sitting back and feeling vaguely confident about his move. They were nearing the end of the game, and perhaps this would be the time that he finally— 

“That's game,” Fat said, nimbly sweeping a stone to the high point and Jeong Jeong let out a vicious string of swears under his breath. 

“Language,” Fat chided but his eyes were twinkling, Agni help him. 

***

“What do you think?” Piandao asked, placing the hunk of metal on the table in front of him. 

Jeong Jeong looked at it. There was a right answer somewhere here, he was sure of it. “It looks… strong?” he tried. 

Piandao’s mouth twitched up. “Thank you,” he said seriously. “I always want my metal to be as firm as possible.”

...There was no way Piandao had meant that like it sounded. 

“I was talking about the pattern though,” Piandao continued before he could get too caught up in a spiral. “The wave-like patterns form depending on the type of metal and the amount of times it’s been folded over. The more times it’s been folded, the stronger the blade.” His eyes flicked up to meet his, dark brown the color of rich soil after rain. “Every family has their own pattern.” 

“And this is yours?”

“Well,” Piandao said with a slightly sardonic grin. “Not much of a family.”

Jeong Jeong examined the blade as he spoke, tracing over the waves Piandao was talking about. They were both in the forge which stood apart from the main house, Jeong Jeong leaned back against the couch which took up half the wall. It would all be perfectly respectable if it wasn’t already half past midnight. He had been coming here pretty much every night now, (hence the couch, which wasn’t standard forge furniture), mostly because sleep eluded him more nights than it didn’t with dreams of fire painted beneath his eyelids. Piandao, as far as Jeong Jeong could tell, just kept these hours normally. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said honestly. 

“It will be,” Piandao agreed. “By the way, I forgot to mention,” he called out as he took the sword back to his workstation, “Iroh came around yesterday. He asked me to tell you about the White Lotus meeting in two days.”

“Good to know he’s regulated you to messenger boy,” Jeong Jeong muttered into the heavy tomb detailing the healing properties of different herbs propped open on his lap, taken from the manor library which Fat had been kind enough to point out after he had noticed him wandering the house without aim one too many times. 

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Piandao asked, amused. The clanging noise started again, steady and easily pushed back to background noise. 

“I don’t like anyone,” Jeong Jeong said absently. He rolled his shoulder slightly, trying to give relief to the old injury.

“Now I know that’s not true. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Under threat of discovery,” he said primly. 

Piandao gave a short laugh, examining him in the dim light. “Your shoulder is killing you,” Piandao said finally. “Stop trying to hide it. You don’t—“ he saw him hesitate, knew he was remembering Jeong Jeong's usual way of dealing with sore muscles from what seemed like a lifetime ago. 

_My own personal heat pack_ Piandao would say with a grin in his voice and Jeong Jeong would push him away until he would pull him back in, laughing and peppering kisses along his face. 

“No. Not— anymore.”

“Well. It’s not fire bending, but I have something that might help. Can I?” He held up the small pack of heated clay, and Jeong Jeong nodded, assuming he would hand it to him. That was very much not what he did. 

Piandao sat next to him, pressing the pack on his shoulder and rubbing his hands in circles around the skin. Jeong Jeong flinched, and Piandao paused, concerned. 

“Is that fine?” Piandao said, and his voice was very close to Jeong Jeong's ear. Jeong Jeong could only nod, Piandao’s fingers like heated iron on his skin. 

Piandao’s fingers continued on his back, rubbing steadily as the throb thankfully lessened. The firelight cast shadows across his face, giving the side of his face a golden glow. A loose strand of hair fell out of his neat topknot, brushing the edge of his jaw and Jeong Jeong's fingers twitched, itching to push it back. 

“So, uh,” he cleared his throat, looking away. “That’s not exactly a fire nation army standard sword you were making. Where’d you learn that?”

Piandao huffed out a small laugh. “No, it isn’t. That particular style, I learned in Varanasi.”

“South Earth Kingdom?” he asked, distracted for a moment from Piandao's steady hands. “What were you doing all the way there?”

Piandao scratched at his jaw thoughtfully. “At the time? Bleeding out, mostly,” he admitted and Jeong Jeong coughed violently. 

“This,” he said empathetically when he had caught his breath, “is why no one likes it when you tell stories,” Piandao just tipped his head back and laughed, the asshole. 

“Well if you hate my stories so much, I don’t have to finish this one—” Jeong Jeong levelled him with his best glare, the one he used to use on all the incompetents he met in his army days. Piandao’s gaze turned if possible even more amused. 

“I wanted to be trained by the best,” he said. “So I asked a training guild to take me in. They were known far and wide for their techniques, and I was determined to learn from them only.”

“And they accepted you?”

“Ah, well. Not exactly. They challenged me to a duel, and if I won they would train me. I lost. They threw me out onto the streets and I stayed there for three days, hoping I wouldn’t die from infection.” 

“Piandao,” he breathed. 

“Someone found me eventually,” he shrugged. “Turns out I’d been dumped in their back alley, and he was kind enough to take me in, teach me a few things. Forging, swordsmanship. The right ratio of elaichi to long when you're making chai.” He sat back, blowing the stray piece of hair from his face. “Did that help at all?”

“The massage or the nightmare fuel?”

“Either,” he said with a grin and Jeong Jeong let out a shaky laugh. It hurt his stomach to think of Piandao helpless and in unimaginable pain, completely alone and waiting for a slow death. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told that story to anyone,” Piandao added absently. 

“I’m glad you did.” Piandao gave him a slow smile, the kind that lit his whole face up. 

“You want another one?” he asked, nodding at his drink and Jeong Jeong shook his head, standing up. 

“I think I’d better head to bed, actually. You coming?” he asked, then blushed, heat creeping up his face. “To the manor,” he added hastily. 

“No, I think I’m going to finish this first.” He still had that absent look on his face, like he was a thousand miles away. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” he paused at the doorway, wind cool and refreshing against his face compared to the steady heat of the forge. “Piandao?”

“Hm?”

“What was his name? The man who took you in.”

Piandao’s eyes were very dark across the room. “Kiran,” he said at last and the way he said his name told Jeong Jeong all he needed to know. 

“Thank you,” Jeong Jeong said quietly, and left. 

***

In the days leading up to Sozin's comet they were sent away more often, away on missions and intelligence gathering. Jeong Jeong was sent with Piandao more often than not, mostly out of convenience though he certainly wasn't complaining. It was mostly organization work, making sure all of the people who would be needed on the day of the battle would be in position and ready as Iroh focused on the Avatar. They were most heavily involved in making sure each of the armies would be in position to come together on the day of battle, while Iroh focused on getting the Avatar and his friends there. The long missions did a good job distracting him from the issue Jeong Jeong was most worried about. 

Hours before battle Piandao found him. 

“Shouldn’t you be preparing?” Jeong Jeong asked, eyebrow raised. He was sitting over the cliff top, feet dangling over miles of open air and the rush of waterfall below him. Behind him sprawled the open courtyard where Piandao practiced his swordplay, and where they had had a few friendly sparring matches in the past few months. 

“There’s only so much I can do at this point,” Piandao shrugged, unconcerned. He sat next to him, hair ruffling in the breeze. They sat in silence for long moments, watching Agni creep over the distant mountaintops and paint the grass and waterfalls red. 

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do this,” Jeong Jeong said quietly. “I’ve hardly made fire in months, the most I’ve done is warm up a cup of tea. I don’t—” he shook his head sharply, rubbing at his mouth with his hand. From the corner of his eye he saw Piandao lay his hand out on the ground, palm upwards. An offer, nothing more. 

Jeong Jeong reached out and took it, gripped it so tightly it must have been painful but Piandao didn’t make a sound. “If you had seen,” Jeong Jeong said quietly. “If you had seen what he did, with what I taught him—” Innocents, women and children dead, because of one mans arrogance. And because of him. 

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“But I still know. Jeong Jeong, we all make choices we aren’t proud of. My slate is far from clean.”

“And what if,” he paused, licking his lips and swallowing, “what if I made the choice not to fight. What if I decided I couldn’t do it.”

Piandao’s brows furrowed as he turned to look at him. “Then,” he said slowly, “I would say I’ll see you in a few hours. Or not, depending on how it goes.”

Jeong Jeong stared. “You can’t be serious,” he said hoarsely. 

Piandao drew his other hand up, tucked a stray bit of hair behind his ear. Jeong Jeong’s breath hitched in his throat. “I’ve always been serious about you, Jay Jay,” Piandao murmured, thumb brushing over his jaw. 

Jeong Jeong swallowed. “I’m about to do something stupid,” he said, then leaned forward and kissed him. 

It started off chaste, just a peck on the mouth with Piandao’s hand creeping around to cup the back of his neck, then slower, mouths slotting together. They drew apart, noses touching. 

“Yeah?” Jeong Jeong asked and Piandao breathed back _“_ yeah.”

They kissed again, Jeong Jeong drawing his hand around Piandao’s waist. He could feel Agni creeping up over the mountains to cover them in light, filling him with energy. He could feel too, the creeping power of the comet though it wouldn’t arrive for another few hours yet. 

“So,” Piandao breathed against his mouth. From here Jeong Jeong could count each eyelash, see where his mouth had gone pink from kissing. “Will I see you in a few hours?”

Jeong Jeong shook his head, leaning up to press another kiss to his mouth. “No way I’m letting you go into danger without me.”

“Well then,” Piandao gave him one of his slow, inexorable smiles, the ones that started at the corners of his mouth and softened his whole face. “Let’s get to it.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> \-- hey abby, i really hope you liked this :) i did like ten minutes of skimming their wiki pages before writing this so if something is wrong, no it isn’t <3 lmao but lmk what u thought I’d love to hear the pianjeong queen herself’s thoughts!! Ily and I really hope u enjoyed  
> \-- heat waves by glass animals and on the outside by Ethan gruska are both peak pianjeong songs and i listened to pretty much nothing else while writing this so if u like pianjeong i think u would enjoy listening to those  
> \-- um this was supposed to be much longer but i ran out of time so maybe itll be edited later? uh so if it feels rushed sorry!! but i hope its enjoyable anyways


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